Part 21

(b) “But whereas he mentions ‘a great paradox of his own; that there is hardly any one action, to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever is in rerum natura’; I can but smile to see with what ambition our great undertakers do affect to be accounted the first founders of strange opinions, &c.” The Bishop speaks often of paradoxes with such scorn or detestation, that a simple reader would take a paradox either for felony or some other heinous crime, or else for some ridiculous turpitude; whereas perhaps a judicious reader knows what the word signifies; and that a paradox, is an opinion not yet generally received. Christian religion was once a paradox; and a great many other opinions which the Bishop now holdeth, were formerly paradoxes. Insomuch as when a man calleth an opinion a paradox, he doth not say it is untrue, but signifieth his own ignorance; for if he understood it, he would call it either a truth or an error. He observes not, that but for paradoxes we should be now in that savage ignorance, which those men are in that have not, or have not long had laws and commonwealth, from whence proceedeth science and civility. There was not long since a scholar that maintained, that if the least thing that had weight should be laid down upon the hardest body that could be, supposing it an anvil of diamant, it would at the first access make it yield. This I thought, and much more the Bishop would have thought, a paradox. But when he told me, that either that would do it, or all the weight of the world would not do it, because if the whole weight did it, every the least part thereof would do its part, I saw no reason to dissent. In like manner when I say, ‘there is hardly any one action to the causing of which concurs not whatsoever is in rerum natura;’ it seems to the Bishop a great paradox; and if I should say that all action is the effect of motion, and that there cannot be a motion in one part of the world, but the same must also be communicated to all the rest of the world, he would say that this were no less a paradox. But yet if I should say, that if a lesser body, as a concave sphere or tun, were filled with air, or other liquid matter, and that any one little particle thereof were moved, all the rest would be moved also, he would conceive it to be true, or if not he, a judicious reader would. It is not the greatness of the tun that altereth the case; and therefore the same would be true also, if the whole world were the tun; for it is the greatness of this tun that the Bishop comprehendeth not. But the truth is comprehensible enough, and may be said without ambition of being the founder of strange opinions. And though a grave man may smile at it, he that is both grave and wise will not.

NO. XXII.

J. D. “Thirdly, the moral philosopher tells us how we are haled hither and thither with outward objects. To this I answer, “First, that the power which outward objects have over us, is for the most part by our own default, because of those vicious habits which we have contracted. Therefore though the actions seem to have a kind of violence in them, yet they were free and voluntary in their first originals. As a paralytic man, to use Aristotle’s comparison, shedding the liquor deserves to be punished, for though his act be unwilling, yet his intemperance was willing, whereby he contracted this infirmity.

“Secondly I answer, that concupiscence, and custom, and bad company, and outward objects do indeed make a proclivity, but not a necessity. By prayers, tears, meditations, vows, watchings, fastings, humi-cubations, a man may get a contrary habit, and gain the victory, not only over outward objects, but also over his own corruptions, and become the king of the little world of himself.

Si metuis, si prava cupis, si duceris irâ, Servitii patiere jugum, tolerabis iniquas Interius leges. Tunc omnia jure tenebis, Cum poteris rex esse tui.

“Thirdly, a resolved mind, which weighs all things judiciously and provides for all occurrences, is not so easily surprised with outward objects. Only Ulysses wept not at the meeting with his wife and son. I would beat thee, said the philosopher, but that I am angry. One spake lowest, when he was most moved. Another poured out the water, when he was thirsty. Another made a covenant with his eyes. Neither opportunity nor enticement could prevail with Joseph. Nor the music nor the fire, with the three children. It is not the strength of the wind, but the lightness of the chaff, which causeth it to be blown away. Outward objects do not impose a moral, much less a physical necessity; they may be dangerous, but cannot be destructive to true liberty.”

T. H. Thirdly, he disputeth against the opinion of them that say, external objects presented to men of such and such temperatures, do make their actions necessary; and says, the power, that such objects have over us, proceeds from our own fault. But that is nothing to the purpose, if such fault of ours proceedeth from causes not in our own power. And therefore that opinion may hold true, for all this answer. Further, he saith, prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. It is true: but when they do so, they are causes of the contrary habit, and make it necessary; as the former habit had been necessary, if prayer, fasting, &c., had not been. Besides we are not moved, nor disposed to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something equivalent. In the next place he saith, a resolved mind is not easily surprised. As the mind of Ulysses, who, when others wept, he alone wept not. And of the philosopher that abstained from striking, because he found himself angry. And of him that poured out the water, when he was thirsty; and the like. Such things I confess have, or may have been done; and do prove only that it was not necessary for Ulysses then to weep, nor for the philosopher to strike, nor for that other man to drink: but it does not prove that it was not necessary for Ulysses then to abstain, as he did, from weeping; nor the philosopher to abstain, as he did, from striking; nor the other man to forbear drinking. And yet that was the thing he ought to have proved.

Lastly, he confesseth that the disposition of objects may be dangerous to liberty, but cannot be destructive. To which I answer, it is impossible; for liberty is never in any other danger than to be lost. And if it cannot be lost, which he confesseth, I may infer it can be in no danger at all.

J. D. (a) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy misunderstood, that outward objects do necessitate the will. I shall not need to repeat what he hath omitted, but only to satisfy his exceptions. (b) The first is, that ‘it is not material, ’though the power of outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of ours proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they do proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do? Then his answer is a mere subterfuge. If our faults proceed from causes that are not, and were not in our own power, then they are not our faults at all. It is not a fault in us, not to do those things which never were in our power to do: but they are the faults of these causes from whence they do proceed. (c) Next he confesseth, that it is in our power, by good endeavours, to alter those vicious habits which we had contracted, and to get the contrary habit. ‘True,’ saith he, ‘but then the contrary habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the former habit did the other way.’ By which very consideration it appears, that that which he calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it were a true necessity, it could not be avoided nor altered by our endeavours. The truth is, acquired habits do help and assist the faculty; but they do not necessitate the faculty. He who hath gotten to himself an habit of temperance, may yet upon occasion commit an intemperate act. And so on the contrary. Acts are not opposed to habits, but other habits. (d) He adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, godly preachers, or something equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make godly preachers and pious company to be outward objects; which are outward agents: secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by outward objects. The will is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the sensitive passions, by angels good and bad, by men; and most effectually by acts or habits infused by God, whereby the will is excited extraordinarily indeed, but efficaciously and determinately. This is more than equivalent with outward objects.

“Another branch of mine answer was, that a resolved and prepared mind is able to resist both the appetibility of objects, and the unruliness of passions: as I showed by example. (e) He answers, that I prove Ulysses was not necessitated to weep, nor the philosopher to strike; but I do not prove that they were not necessitated to forbear. He saith true. I am not now proving, but answering. Yet my answer doth sufficiently prove that which I intend; that the rational will hath power, both to slight the most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions. When he hath given a clear solution to those proofs which I have produced, then it will be time for him to cry for more work.

“Lastly, whereas I say, that outward objects may be dangerous, but cannot be destructive to true liberty; he catcheth at it, (f) and objects, that ‘liberty is in no danger but to be lost; but I say it cannot be lost, therefore’, he infers that, ‘it is in no danger at all.’ I answer, first, that liberty is in more danger to be abused, than to be lost. Many more men do abuse their wits, than lose them. Secondly, liberty is in danger likewise to be weakened or diminished; as when it is clogged by vicious habits contracted by ourselves, and yet it is not totally lost. Thirdly, though liberty cannot be totally lost out of the world, yet it may be totally lost to this or that particular man, as to the exercise of it. Reason is the root of liberty; and though nothing be more natural to a man than reason, yet many by excess of study, or by continual gormandizing, or by some extravagant passion which they have cherished in themselves, or by doting too much upon some affected object, do become very sots, and deprive themselves of the use of reason, and consequently of liberty. And when the benefit of liberty is not thus universally lost, yet it may be lost respectively to this or that particular occasion. As he who makes choice of a bad wife, hath lost his former liberty to choose a good one.”

ANIMADVERSIONS UPON THE BISHOP’S REPLY NO. XXII.

(a) “The third pretence was out of moral philosophy misunderstood, that outward objects do necessitate the will.” I cannot imagine how the question, whether outward objects do necessitate or not necessitate the will, can any way be referred to moral philosophy. The principles of moral philosophy are the laws; wherewith outward objects have little to do, as being for the most part inanimate, and which follow always the force of nature without respect to moral laws. Nor can I conceive what purpose he had to bring this into his reply to my answer, wherein I attribute nothing in the action of outward objects to morality.

(b) “His first exception is, that ‘it is not material that the power of outward objects do proceed from our own faults, if such faults of ours proceed not from causes in our own power’. Well, but what if they do proceed from causes that are in our own power, as in truth they do? Then his answer is a mere subterfuge.” But how proves he that in truth they do? ‘Because else,’ saith he, ‘they are not our faults at all.’ Very well reasoned. A horse is lame from a cause that was not in his power: therefore the lameness is no fault in the horse. But his meaning is, it is no injustice unless the causes were in his own power. As if it were not injustice, whatsoever is willingly done against the law; whatsoever it be, that is the cause of the will to do it.

(c) “Next he confesseth, that it is in our power by good endeavours to alter those vicious habits which we had contracted, and to get the contrary habits.” There is no such confession in my answer. I said, prayer, fasting, &c., may alter our habits. But I never said that the will to pray, fast, &c. is in our own power. “‘True,’ saith he, ‘but then the contrary habit doth necessitate the one way, as well as the former habit did the other way.’ By which very consideration it appears, that that which he calls a necessity, is no more but a proclivity. If it were a true necessity, it could not be avoided, nor altered by our endeavours.” Again he mistakes: for I said that prayer, fasting, &c. when they alter our habits, do necessarily cause the contrary habits; which is not to say, that the habit necessitates, but is necessitated. But this is common with him, to make me say that which out of reading, not out of meditation, he useth to say himself. But how doth it appear, that prayer and fasting, &c. make but a proclivity in men to do what they do? For if it were but a proclivity, then what they do they do not. Therefore they either necessitate the will, or the will followeth not. I contend for the truth of this only, that when the will followeth them, they necessitate the will; and when a proclivity followeth, they necessitate the proclivity. But the Bishop thinks I maintain, that that also is produced necessarily, which is not produced at all.

(d) “He adds, ‘that we are not moved to prayer or any other action, but by outward objects, as pious company, and godly preachers, or something equivalent’. Wherein are two other mistakes: first, to make godly preachers and pious company to be outward objects, which are outward agents; secondly, to affirm that the will is not moved but by outward objects. The will is moved by itself, &c”. The first mistake, he urgeth that I call preachers and company objects. Is not the preacher to the hearer the object of his hearing? No, perhaps he will say, it is the voice which is the object; and that we hear not the preacher, but his voice; as before he said, the object of sight was not the cause of sight. I must therefore once more make him smile with a great paradox, which is this; that in all the senses, the object is the agent; and that it is, when we hear a preacher, the preacher that we hear; and that his voice is the same thing with the hearing and a fancy in the hearer, though the motion of the lips and other organs of speech be his that speaketh. But of this I have written more largely in a more proper place.

My second mistake, in affirming that the will is not moved but by outward objects, is a mistake of his own. For I said not, the will is not moved, but we are not moved: for I always avoid attributing motion to any thing but body. The will is produced, generated, formed, and created in such sort as accidents are effected in a corporeal subject; but moved it cannot be, because it goeth not from place to place. And whereas he saith, “the will is moved by itself,” if he had spoken properly as he ought to do, and said, the will is made or created by itself, he would presently have acknowledged that it was impossible. So that it is not without cause men use improper language, when they mean to keep their errors from being detected. And because nothing can move that is not itself moved, it is untruly said that either the will or any thing else is moved by itself, by the understanding, by the sensitive passions, or by acts or habits; or that acts or habits are infused by God. For infusion is motion, and nothing is moved but bodies.

(e) “He answers, that I prove Ulysses was not necessitated to weep, nor the philosopher to strike, but I do not prove that they were not necessitated to forbear. He saith true; I am not now proving, but answering.” By his favour, though he be answering now, he was proving then. And what he answers now, maketh nothing more toward a proof than was before. For these words, “the rational will hath power to slight the most appetible objects, and to control the most unruly passions,” are no more, being reduced into proper terms, than this: the appetite hath power to be without appetite towards most appetible objects, and to will contrary to the most unruly will; which is jargon.

(f) “He objects that ‘liberty is in no danger, but to be lost; but I say it cannot be lost; therefore’, he infers, ‘that it is in no danger at all.’ I answer, first, that liberty is in more danger to be abused, than lost, &c.; secondly, liberty is in danger likewise to be weakened by vicious habits; thirdly, it may be totally lost.” It is true that a man hath more liberty one time than another, and in one place than another; which is a difference of liberty as to the body. But as to the liberty of doing what we will, in those things we are able to do it cannot be greater one time than another. Consequently outward objects can no ways endanger liberty, further than it destroyeth it. And his answer, that liberty is in more danger to be abused than lost, is not to the question, but a mere shift to be thought not silenced. And whereas he says liberty is diminished by vicious habits, it cannot be understood otherwise than that vicious habits make a man the less free to do vicious actions; which I believe is not his meaning. And lastly, whereas he says that “liberty is lost, when reason is lost; and that they who by excess of study, or by continual gormandising, or by extravagant passion, &c., do become sots, have consequently lost their liberty”: it requireth proof. For, for any thing that I can observe, mad men and fools have the same liberty that other men have, in those things that are in their power to do.

NO. XXIII.

J. D. “Fourthly, the natural philosopher doth teach, that the will doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. It is true indeed the will should follow the direction of the understanding; but I am not satisfied that it doth evermore follow it. Sometimes this saying hath place: video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor. As that great Roman said of two suitors, that the one produced the better reasons, but the other must have the office. So reason often lies dejected at the feet of affection. Things nearer to the senses move more powerfully. Do what a man can, he shall sorrow more for the death of his child, than for the sin of his soul; yet appreciatively in the estimation of judgment, he accounts the offence of God a greater evil than any temporal loss.

“Next, I do not believe that a man is bound to weigh the expedience or inexpedience of every ordinary trivial action to the least grain in the balance of his understanding; or to run up into his watch-tower with his perspective to take notice of every jackdaw that flies by, for fear of some hidden danger. This seems to me to be a prostitution of reason to petit observations as concerning every rag that a man wears, each drop of drink, each morsel of bread that he eats, each pace that he walks. Thus many steps must he go, not one more nor one less, under pain of mortal sin. What is this but a rack and a gibbet to the conscience? But God leaves many things indifferent: though man may be so curious, he will not. A good architect will be sure to provide sufficient materials for his building; but what particular number of stones or trees, he troubles not his head. And suppose he should weigh each action thus, yet he doth not; so still there is liberty. Thirdly, I conceive it is possible in this mist and weakness of human apprehension, for two actions to be so equally circumstantiated, that no discernible difference can appear between them upon discussion. As suppose a chirurgeon should give two plaisters to his patient, and bid him apply either of them to his wound; what can induce his reason more to the one than to the other, but that he may refer it to chance whether he will use?

But leaving these probable speculations, which I submit to better judgments, I answer the philosopher briefly thus: admitting that the will did necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding, as certainly in many things it doth: yet, first, this is no extrinsical determination from without, and a man’s own resolution is not destructive to his own liberty, but depends upon it. So the person is still free.

“Secondly, this determination is not antecedent, but joined with the action. The understanding and the will, are not different agents, but distinct faculties of the same soul. Here is an infallibility, or an hypothetical necessity as we say, quicquid est, quando est, necesse est esse: a necessity of consequence, but not a necessity of consequent. Though an agent have certainly determined, and so the action be become infallible, yet if the agent did determine freely, the action likewise is free.”

T. H. The fourth opinion which he rejecteth, is of them that make the will necessarily to follow the last dictate of the understanding; but it seems he understands that tenet in another sense than I do. For he speaketh as if they that held it, did suppose men must dispute the sequel of every action they do, great and small, to the least grain; which is a thing that he thinks with reason to be untrue. But I understand it to signify, that the will follows the last opinion or judgment, immediately preceding the action, concerning whether it be good to do it or not; whether he hath weighed it long before, or not at all. And that I take to be the meaning of them that hold it. As for example: when a man strikes, his will to strike follows necessarily that thought he had of the sequel of his stroke, immediately before the lifting of his hand. Now if it be understood in that sense, the last dictate of the understanding does certainly necessitate the action, though not as the whole cause, yet as the last cause: as the last feather necessitates the breaking of a horse’s back, when there are so many laid on before, as there needeth but the addition of that one to make the weight sufficient. That which he allegeth against this, is first, out of a poet, who in the person of Medea says, video meliora proboque, deteriora sequor. But the saying, as pretty as it is, is not true. For though Medea saw many reasons to forbear killing her children, yet the last dictate of her judgment was that the present revenge on her husband outweighed them all; and thereupon the wicked action followed necessarily. Then the story of the Roman, that of two competitors said one had the better reasons, but the other must have the office: this also maketh against him. For the last dictate of his judgment that had the bestowing of the office, was this; that it was better to take a great bribe, than reward a great merit. Thirdly, he objects, that things nearer the senses move more powerfully than reason. What followeth thence but this; that the sense of the present good is commonly more immediate to the action, than the foresight of the evil consequents to come? Fourthly, whereas he says, that do what a man can, he shall sorrow more for the death of his son, than for the sin of his soul: it makes nothing to the last dictate of the understanding; but it argues plainly, that sorrow for sin is not voluntary. And by consequence, repentance proceedeth from causes.

J. D. “The fourth pretence alleged against liberty was, that the will doth necessarily follow the last dictate of the understanding. This objection is largely answered before in several places of this reply, and particularly No. VII. In my former discourse I gave two answers to it: the one certain and undoubted, that (a) supposing the last dictate of the understanding did always determine the will, yet this determination being not antecedent in time, nor proceeding from extrinsical causes, but from the proper resolution of the agent, who had now freely determined himself, it makes no absolute necessity, but only hypothetical, upon supposition that the agent hath determined his own will after this or that manner. Which being the main answer, T. H. is so far from taking it away, that he takes no notice of it. The other part of mine answer was probable; that it is not always certain that the will doth always actually follow the last dictate of the understanding, though it always ought to follow it. (b) Of which I gave then three reasons. One was, that actions may be so equally circumstantiated, or the case so intricate, that reason cannot give a positive sentence, but leaves the election to liberty or chance. To this he answers not a word. Another of my reasons was, because reason doth not weigh, nor is bound to weigh the convenience or inconvenience of every individual action to the uttermost grain in the balance of true judgment. The truth of this reason is confessed by T. H.; though he might have had more abetters in this than in the most part of his discourse, that nothing is indifferent; that a man cannot stroke his beard on one side, but it was either necessary to do it, or sinful to omit it. From which confession of his it follows, that in all those actions wherein reason doth not define what is most convenient, there the will is free from the determination of the understanding; and by consequence the last feather is wanting to break the horse’s back. A third reason was, because passions and affections sometimes prevail against judgment: as I proved by the example of Medea and Cæsar, by the nearness of the objects to the senses, and by the estimation of a temporal loss more than sin. Against this reason his whole answer is addressed. And first, (c) he explaineth the sense of the assertion by the comparison of the last feather; wherewith he seems to be delighted, seeing he useth it now the second time. But let him like it as he will, it is improper, for three reasons. First, the determination of the judgment is no part of the weight, but is the sentence of the trier. The understanding weigheth all things, objects, means, circumstances, convenience, inconvenience; but itself is not weighed. Secondly, the sensitive passion, in some extraordinary cases, may give a counterfeit weight to the object, if it can detain or divert reason from the balance: but ordinarily the means, circumstances, and causes concurrent, they have their whole weight from the understanding; so as they do not press the horse’s back at all, until reason lay them on. Thirdly, he conceives that as each feather has a certain natural weight, whereby it concurs not arbitrarily, but necessarily towards the overcharging of the horse; so all objects and causes have a natural efficiency, whereby they do physically determine the will; which is a great mistake. His objects, his agents, his motives, his passions, and all his concurrent causes, ordinarily do only move the will morally, not determine it naturally. So as it hath in all ordinary actions a free dominion over itself.

“His other example, of a man that strikes, ‘whose will to strike followeth necessarily that thought he had of the sequel of his stroke, immediately before the lifting up of his hand’: as it confounds passionate, indeliberate thoughts, with the dictates of right reason, so it is very uncertain; for between the cup and the lip, between the lifting up of the hand and the blow, the will may alter, and the judgment also. And lastly, it is impertinent; for that necessity of striking proceeds from the free determination of the agent, and not from the special influence of any outward determining causes. And so it is only a necessity upon supposition.

“Concerning Medea’s choice, the strength of the argument doth not lie either in the fact of Medea, which is but a fiction, or in the authority of the poet, who writes things rather to be admired than believed, but in the experience of all men: who find it to be true in themselves, that sometimes reason doth shew unto a man the exorbitancy of his passion, that what he desires is but a pleasant good, that what he loseth by such a choice is an honest good, that that which is honest is to be preferred before that which is pleasant; yet the will pursues that which is pleasant, and neglects that which is honest. St. Paul (Rom. vii. 15) saith as much in earnest, as is feigned of Medea: that he approved not that which he did, and that he did that which he hated. The Roman story is mistaken: there was no bribe in the case but affection. Whereas I urge, that those things which are nearer to the senses do move more powerfully, he lays hold on it; and without answering to that for which I produced it, infers, ‘that the sense of present good, is more immediate to the action than the foresight of evil consequents’: which is true; but it is not absolutely true by any antecedent necessity. Let a man do what he may do, and what he ought to do, and sensitive objects will lose that power which they have by his own fault and neglect. Antecedent or indeliberate concupiscence doth sometimes, but rarely, surprise a man, and render the action not free. But consequent and deliberated concupiscence, which proceeds from the rational will, doth render the action more free, not less free, and introduceth only a necessity upon supposition.